I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother ~ Meredith Brooks I’m pretty even-keeled most of time. I never yell and rarely pitch a fit. I’m generally easy going, unless I’m over-tired. Or super hungry. Throw in a few hormonal spikes and I can be… unpleasant. At first I get quiet. Which is abnormal. Eerie even. This is a warning sign. Then comes that hyper, giddy, everything is hilarious, burst of energy you have before you crash and that, right there, is when I can become a bit of a bitch. And who is in my line of fire? Surely not my children. They’re too young and innocent to face my wrath full force. No. It’s my closest friend. My soul mate. The one who is legally bound to me until death do we part. Here are the ten things he does to drive me over the edge. Poor man, but he knew what he was in for when he married me. 1. Slurping any liquid. He’s doing it right now as I’m writing this. It’s all I can do not to wrestle that mug away from his grasp and bash him over the head with[…]

I put the “mental” in sentimental on more than one occasion this week. I could easily write a sappy post about the heartbreak of watching my children head off to school this fall. It’s odd, this weird mixture of nostalgia and fierce pride watching your babies grow up before your eyes. I could lament about my son starting grade one and what a caring, big-hearted little man he is becoming. I could write about how his little sister is missing her playmate desperately and about the fear I have about my daughter, post Epilepsy diagnosis, going to preschool 2x a week. I could. But instead I am going to list the things my dear children do to annoy the living crap out of me on a daily basis—the things that enable mothers to wipe away the tears, and let out an elated “Yeee-ha!” (possibly too elated, as other parents stare, aghast, as you peel out of the parking lot) as you drop off your mini-yous at school. Here is my Top Ten List…in no particular order (though number one is a major pet peeve): 1. Mimicking my every word like a myna bird with an attitude 2. Peeing in the[…]

I’m not talking about hopes/aspirations kind of dreams– those died the day I had children. Kidding. My dreams aren’t dead, but rather in a temporary coma. I experience dreamless sleep these days. The thing with being sleep deprived (other than the brain numbing duh-ness and scary under eye-bags) is that I don’t dream. Or possibly I do, but I’m just too tired to recall. I used to have crazy vivid dreams every night that I loved recapping the following morning. I’ve never seen my husband laugh as hard at anything than at my “re-enactment” of the dream where I was master of a parade gone horribly wrong. I’d retell it here, but it would be lost in translation without the necessary visuals and accompanying marching song. Many of my creative ideas and quirky inspirations for inventions or organizational tools came from dreams. I’ve even had prophetic dreams and had tea with deceased relatives while dreaming. For the last few months, my sleep has been dreamless. No reverie whatsoever. Not even a simple, run-of-the-mill “running in place, not getting anywhere, while completely naked at my high school reunion as my teeth are falling out” dream. Until last night. I wish I[…]

I’ve never considered myself a very assertive person and definitely not a confrontational one. Over the past two years we’ve worked with cardiologists, neurologists, therapists, orthotists, geneticists, pharmacists—so many people whose title ends in “ist”. There was a time when I followed a doctor’s advice without question. They were the professional – the expert. Who was I to question them? Now I question everything. I research every word. I seek second and even third opinions. I don’t care if I get glared at. I don’t care if I’m a pain. I don’t care if I’m disliked. I do care about my children. They are my priority. Last week my husband took the kids to his parent’s while I hosted a party at our house. At 11:30 p.m. he phoned home to tell me an ambulance was there to take Avery to the hospital. She was having a seizure that wouldn’t stop. I met them in the ER. The seizure eventually stopped on its own without medication. After 8 hours, they sent us home and told us to follow up with our neurologist. The following afternoon, I put Avery down for her nap. Thanks to our family, we now have a[…]

One year my husband gave me a tacky beer cozy–you know those foamy cups that insulate your bottle? “This is not the life I ordered” was written across it in neon letters. It was a silly gag gift for an occasion that I can no longer recall. Recently I dragged it out from a box in the basement and announced that from now on, I would be using it to hold all of my beverages because this is NOT the life I ordered! I lucked out in the husband department, I love my children immensely, friends and family abound. Overall my life is blessed, so I should probably clarify. I wouldn’t trade being my daughter’s mum for anything. Maybe it’s because I love her so deeply that being her mother is all the more difficult. Avery breaks my heart a little bit, in some way, every day. Happy moments, sad ones, fearful, worrisome, desperate moments– they all have an effect on you as a parent, as a person really. When Avery was four months old we had concerns which we addressed with our family doctor. She was not gaining weight, refused to nurse or drink from a bottle and[…]